


Everything That Touches You

by MoonOwl



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Chapter 70 Spoilers, M/M, Manga Spoilers, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 07:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4295340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonOwl/pseuds/MoonOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Erwin touched Levi, and one time in which Levi touched Erwin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything That Touches You

You are 32-years-old when he first touches you. While it's not exactly the first time you've felt his skin against your own, it's the first contact between you two that you can properly classify as a touch. It's a gentle pat on the back, signaling to you that you've done well on the last mission. “See me in my office,” he says, a hint of a smile gracing his lips. 

After a quick trip to the showers, you journey to Erwin's office to find out whatever he's got planned for you, not bothering to even knock on his door. 

“Please sit down,” he tells you. “I have exciting news for you.” 

Hoping this will be quick, you reluctantly sit in the seat across from him at his desk. 

“I'm encouraging you to apply for a position for a rank similar to a squad leader. There's been talk of adding a special operations squad to the Corps. I think you'd be perfect as their leader,” he continues. “We don't normally have captains in the Survey Corps, but we're considering creating that position, just for you.”

“Just for me?” you respond with a raised eyebrow. “What about anyone else applying for the position?” 

“Well, I can almost assure you that the position will be yours,” he says with a smile that's just ever so slightly sly. 

You roll your eyes and heave a quick and annoyed sigh. Of course, there's rumors everywhere about him and you, about how he seems to favor you. A few other soldiers tend to come to your defense, saying that it's simply strategy that the new commander would use every opportunity to utilize his rising prominence both within the Corps and with the general public. But of course, you can't even come to your own defense. You're not as dimwitted as to think that this is purely business. Obviously he recognizes your talent and its importance to his goals, but this goes beyond just that. You know that he's attracted to you and you have to admit to yourself that you're attracted to him as well. 

“Don't you pull any strings for me, Smith.” 

“I'm not,” he says, that sneaky smile coming back to his face. “But with your talents and status in the Survey Corps, you're the perfect candidate to be captain of the Special Operations Squad.” 

While you don't know if you believe him entirely, (because you know that you're not exactly the best when it comes to working in a team) you know that you can still trust him. Even if he's attracted to you, it's not like he would let that sabotage his love for humanity. 

...

You're 33-years-old on your way to a military gala when he grabs your hand as you ride side by side in a stage coach. 

“Don't be nervous, you're creating quite the buzz recently, naturally people are going to want to meet you,” he says, gently rubbing your thumb through the silk of his glove. 

This is not entirely new. You've shared kisses and soft caresses, but you never go much further. You're quite content with that, for the most part, until of course you remember how handsome he looks in his uniform yet you just want to tear it off of him. Much like right now, as you look at him in his military dress suit and think about how it's been so long since you last got fucked. 

“I'm not nervous,” you tell him flatly. “I'm disinterested. You know these galas don't do anything. The fabulously rich and famous just need an excuse to get drunk in public. They don't actually care about us.”

“They always seem interested in what I have to say,” he says, an optimistic smile gracing his lips. 

“Well not all of us are ridiculously tall, blond, and handsome,” you say with a half annoyed, half amused grin creeping up on your face. “You could talk about the biology behind the lack of Titan digestion systems for three hours and people would still listen to you.” 

Your carriage comes to a halt. “Come now,” he says, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek. “We have a lot of important people for you to meet.”

As much as you hate these parties, you always follow him. You'll follow him anywhere. 

You never say it, but you're deeply in love with him, more so than he could ever possibly love you, you're afraid. 

... 

You're 34-years-old when he's kissing you in his office and he abruptly stops. 

“I can't do this to you,” he says to you. 

“What are you talking about?” you ask him. “I want you to fuck me.” 

“I can't do that,” he says, shaking his head. “Oh, Levi, I can't do this to you, I can't do this to myself. I want too, God knows it. You're so incredibly beautiful and I want you, but I can't. I can't bear the thought of anything happening to me and leaving you behind. I can't let myself get too close to you.”

He turns away and begins to button up his shirt again. You tug on his arm and turn him back around to face you. 

“I'm in the same exact position as you. I could die any day. I might leave you behind, and you might leave me behind, but you're not leaving me behind with a house, and a baby, and a whole fuckton of happy dreams we had together. We both know this isn't going to end well, but don't pretend we're not already together. "

“Levi, please understand,” he says to you. “I have loved you since the day I first saw you, but I can't do this, not now at least.”

You want to say you can't, but there's nothing in you that can say no to him. 

…

You're 35-years-old when his arm wraps around your waist under the sheets of his covers. 

You were never a sound sleeper, so it doesn't surprise you that his sudden movement has woken you. You don't mind it much, you like knowing when he touches you. 

You don't do anything else, you simply rest your head alongside him in his bedroom at night now. You've accepted all of the idiosyncrasies of your relationship by now, walking that delicate balance without much rhyme or reason with him. You haven't seen him in so long, it feels like an eternity, but things are coming back to normal, at least your own version of normal. He's with you, you're with him, there's a gaggle of children under your command, one of them just happens to be a lost princess and another a giant. For moment, you think about the fact that you've essentially skipped over all of the romance and went straight to marriage, a sexless partnership with too many kids to count and care for. 

You turn around gently to face him. You notice the hollow emptiness of his other sleeve, you notice the mess of his normally immaculate hair, but most of all you notice the sleeping serene expression on his face. 

Brushing a lock of hair out of his face, you think to yourself about how much you hate his sleeping face. You hate how sweet he looks when he's sleeping, not a care in the world furrowing those brows or paining that expression. You didn't think that face would get anymore perfect. You hate that he doesn't always look so relaxed and at peace. 

...

A few months later you find yourself touching his arm. 

“I don't have plans for the future either,” you tell him. There's no one else around. The others have left. Not that it matters much anyways. Rumors spread, that's how life is. “I still don't know what I'll do,” you continue. “There's so much risk, I don't know if I can justify it just yet.” 

“We always knew we would have to take risks,” he tells you.

You look up at him, and while his mouth, his brows, and his forehead all remain the same, his eyes somehow seem sadder to you. 

In this moment you know that, more than ever, he is your everything. He is your sun and your moon, he is the earth you walk on, he is ocean you'll never see. He was the ticket to your hopes and dreams of someday inheriting the world outside the Walls, but now he himself is your hopes, your dreams, and your whole entire world.

You hate to imagine it, but you will most likely someday live in a world without Erwin Smith. 

“Well,” you begin again. “I will do whatever I feel that you would think is best.” 

“Thank you,” he says to you.

And that's worth more to you than a thousand “I love you's.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I did get the title from a song by Mika.


End file.
